Garden notes

Before I start a new painting in my Reading a Garden series, I always reread my journal and review all my photos from my two week stay. Today I started a new painting which means the better part of yesterday was spent reading, looking and thinking.

Here I am on my first day, writing away. As a methodical way to see everything, I decided to sit on all the benches throughout the property and survey my surroundings. I usually observed, wrote and walked early in the morning while my traveling companions were fast asleep. Because the garden wasn't open to visitors at that time, I felt like the queen of all I surveyed. Every now and then a gardner walked by or a lawn mower could be heard humming in the distance. Apart from that my fantasy pervailed. It was a very contemplative time for me. These are my first views of the Millennium Garden.

Looking straight ahead is one of the long pathways that run the length of the Millennium Garden.
I was amazed by the order and precision of it all.

This view, slightly to my left, shows roses that were just past their prime. You can see the top of the hornbeam cloisters above the rose plantings. The Hornbeams were the most inviting aspect of the garden . I had never seen anything that magnificant before.

A view walking in the Hornbeam Cloisters. Pretty magical especially on a sunny day!

Windows in the hornbeam allees allow visitors to contemplate the parterre in the centre of the Upper Terrace. Intertwined R's form the design that has been fashioned out of boxwood.

Looking left , the path to the two statues and our door in the wall.

The second statue. I loved the arbours the statues were set in. When the sun was shining through it made the leaves look like stained glass. There was a church feel to the whole experience.

One of the works I created just after arriving back from my trip.
Untitled, 2008, 10 x 24 inches, photo transfer, paper, acrylic paint, acrylic mediums

Approaching the statue from the other direction. This was one of my favourite walks on the property. Walking up the steps meant almost there. Every day of my stay, I never forgot how lucky I was to have the privilege of being there.